"Truly, sir," said my hostess, "I think we are called Long-tails, by reason our tales are long, that we used to pass the time withal, and make ourselves merry." "Now, good hostess," said I, "let me entreat from you one of those tales." "You shall," said she, "and that shall not be a common one neither, for it is a long tale, a merry tale, and a sweet tale; and thus it begins."

THE HOSTESS'S TALE OF THE BIRTH OF ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW

Once upon a time, a great while ago, when men did eat more and drink less—then men were more honest, that knew no knavery, than some now are that confess the knowledge and deny the practice—about that time (whensoe'er it was) there was wont to walk many harmless spirits called fairies, dancing in brave order in fairy rings on green hills with sweet music (sometime invisible) in divers shapes: many mad pranks would they play, as pinching of sluts black and blue, and misplacing things in ill-ordered houses; but lovingly would they use wenches that cleanly were, giving them silver and other pretty toys, which they would leave for them, sometimes in their shoes, other times in their pockets, sometimes in bright basins and other clean vessels.

Amongst these fairies was there a he-fairy; whether he was their king or no I know not, but surely he had great government and command in that country, as you shall hear. This same he-fairy did love a proper young wench, for every night would he with other fairies come to the house, and there dance in her chamber; and oftentimes she was forced to dance with him, and at his departure would he leave her silver and jewels, to express his love unto her. At last this maid was with child, and being asked who was the father of it, she answered a man that nightly came to visit her, but early in the morning he would go his way, whither she knew not, he went so suddenly.

Many old women, that then had more wit than those that are now living and have less, said that a fairy had gotten her with child; and they bid her be of good comfort, for the child must needs be fortunate that had so noble a father as a fairy was, and should work many strange wonders. To be short, her time grew on, and she was delivered of a man child, who (it should seem) so rejoiced his father's heart, that every night his mother was supplied with necessary things that are befitting a woman in child-birth, so that in no mean manner neither; for there had she rich embroidered cushions, stools, carpets, coverlets, delicate linen: then for meat she had capons, chickens, mutton, lamb, pheasant, snite^[2], woodcock, partridge, quail. The gossips liked this fare so well that she never wanted company; wine had she of all sorts, muskadine, sack, malmsey, claret, white and bastard; this pleased her neighbours well, so that few that came to see her, but they had home with them a medicine for the fleas. Sweetmeats too had they in such abundance that some of their teeth are rotten to this day; and for music she wanted not, or any other thing she desired.

All praised this honest fairy for his care, and the child for his beauty, and the mother for a happy woman. In brief, christened he was, at the which all this good cheer was doubled, which made most of the women so wise, that they forgot to make themselves unready, and so lay in their clothes; and none of them next day could remember the child's name but the clerk, and he may thank his book for it, or else it had been utterly lost. So much for the birth of little Robin.

OF ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW'S BEHAVIOUR WHEN HE WAS YOUNG

When Robin was grown to six years of age, he was so knavish that all the neighbours did complain of him; for no sooner was his mother's back turned, but he was in one knavish action or other, so that his mother was constrained (to avoid the complaints) to take him with her to market, or wheresoever she went or rode. But this helped little or nothing, for if he rode before her, then would he make mouths and ill-favoured faces at those he met; if he rode behind her, then would he clap his hand on his tail; so that his mother was weary of the many complaints that came against him, yet knew she not how to beat him justly for it, because she never saw him do that which was worthy blows. The complaints were daily so renewed that his mother promised him a whipping. Robin did not like that cheer, and therefore, to avoid it, he ran away, and left his mother a heavy woman for him.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW DWELT WITH A TAILOR

After that Robin Good-fellow had gone a great way from his mother's house, he began to be hungry, and going to a tailor's house, he asked something for God's sake. The tailor gave him meat, and understanding that he was masterless, he took him for his man, and Robin so plied his work that he got his master's love.

On a time his master had a gown to make for a woman, and it was to be done that night: they both sat up late so that they had done all but setting on the sleeves by twelve o'clock. This master then being sleepy said, "Robin, whip thou on the sleeves, and then come thou to bed; I will go to bed before." "I will," said Robin. So soon as his master was gone, Robin hung up the gown, and taking both sleeves in his hands, he whipped and lashed them on the gown. So stood he till the morning that his master came down: his master seeing him stand in that fashion asked him what he did? "Why," quoth he, "as you bid me, whip on the sleeves." "Thou rogue," said his master, "I did mean that thou shouldst have set them on quickly and slightly." "I would you had said so," said Robin, "for then had I not lost all this sleep." To be short, his master was fain to do the work, but ere he had made an end of it, the woman came for it, and with a loud voice chafed for her gown. The tailor, thinking to please her, bid Robin fetch the remnants that they left yesterday (meaning thereby meat that was left); but Robin, to cross his master the more, brought down the remnants of the cloth that was left of the gown. At the sight of this, his master looked pale, but the woman was glad, saying, "I like this breakfast so well, that I will give you a pint of wine to it." She sent Robin for the wine, but he never returned again to his master.

WHAT HAPPENED TO ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW AFTER HE WENT FROM THE TAILOR

After Robin had travelled a good day's journey from his master's house he sat down, and being weary he fell asleep. No sooner had slumber taken full possession of him, and closed his long-opened eyelids, but he thought he saw many goodly proper personages in antic measures tripping about him, and withal he heard such music as he thought that Orpheus, that famous Greek fiddler (had he been alive), compared to one of these, had been as infamous as a Welsh harper that plays for cheese and onions. As delights commonly last not long, so did those end sooner than he would willingly they should have done; and for very grief he awaked, and found by him lying a scroll, wherein was written these lines following in golden letters.

Robin having read this was very joyful, yet longed he to know whether he had this power or not, and to try it he wished for some meat: presently^[3] it was before him. Then wished he for beer and wine: he straightway had it. This liked him well, and because he was weary, he wished himself a horse: no sooner was his wish ended, but he was transformed, and seemed a horse of twenty pound price, and leaped and curveted as nimble as if he had been in stable at rack and manger a good month. Then wished he himself a dog, and was so: then a tree, and was so: so from one thing to another, till he was certain and well assured that he could change himself to any thing whatsoever.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW SERVED A CLOWNISH FELLOW

Robin Good-fellow going over a field met with a clownish fellow, to whom he spake in this manner. "Friend," quoth he, "what is a clock?" "A thing," answered the clown, "that shows the time of the day." "Why then," said Robin Good-fellow, "be thou a clock, and tell me what time of the day it is." "I owe thee not so much service," answered he again, "but because thou shalt think thyself beholden to me, know that it is the same time of the day as it was yesterday at this time."

These cross-answers vexed Robin Good-fellow, so that in himself he vowed to be revenged of him, which he did in this manner.

Robin Good-fellow turned himself into a bird, and followed this fellow, who was going into a field a little from that place to catch a horse that was at grass. The horse being wild ran over dyke and hedge, and the fellow after; but to little purpose, for the horse was too swift for him. Robin was glad of this occasion, for now or never was the time to put his revenge in action.

Presently Robin shaped himself like to the horse that the fellow followed, and so stood before the fellow: presently the fellow took hold of him and got on his back, but long had he not rid, but with a stumble he hurled this churlish clown to the ground, that he almost broke his neck; yet took he not this for a sufficient revenge for the cross-answers he had received, but stood still and let the fellow mount him once more.

In the way the fellow was to ride was a great plash of water of a good depth: through this must he of necessity ride. No sooner was he in the midst of it, but Robin Good-fellow left him with nothing but a pack-saddle betwixt his legs, and in the shape of a fish swam to the shore, and ran away laughing, ho, ho, hoh!^[4] leaving the poor fellow almost drowned.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW HELPED TWO LOVERS AND DECEIVED AN OLD MAN

Robin going by a wood heard two lovers make great lamentation, because they were hindered from enjoying each other by a cruel old lecher, who would not suffer this loving couple to marry. Robin, pitying them, went to them and said: "I have heard your complaints, and do pity you; be ruled by me, and I will see that you shall have both your hearts' content, and that suddenly if you please." After some amazement the maiden said, "Alas! sir, how can that be? My uncle, because I will not grant to his lust, is so straight over me, and so oppresseth me with work night and day, that I have not so much time as to drink or speak with this young man, whom I love above all men living." "If your work be all that hindereth you," said Robin, "I will see that done: ask me not how, nor make any doubt of the performance; I will do it. Go you with your love: for twenty-four hours I will free you. In that time marry or do what you will. If you refuse my proffered kindness never look to enjoy your wished-for happiness. I love true lovers, honest men, good fellows, good housewives, good meat, good drink, and all things that good is, but nothing that is ill; for my name is Robin Good-fellow, and that you shall see that I have power to perform what I have undertaken, see what I can do." Presently he turned himself into a horse, and away he ran: at the sight of which they were both amazed, but better considering with themselves, they both determined to make good use of their time, and presently they went to an old friar, who presently married them. They paid him, and went their way. Where they supped and lay, I know not, but surely they liked their lodging well the next day.

Robin, when that he came near the old man's house, turned himself into the shape of the young maid, and entered the house, where, after much chiding, he fell to the work that the maid had to do, which he did in half the time that another could do it in. The old man, seeing the speed he made, thought that she had some meeting that night (for he took Robin Good-fellow for his niece); therefore he gave him order for other work, that was too much for any one to do in one night; Robin did that in a trice, and played many mad pranks beside ere the day appeared.

In the morning he went to the two lovers to their bed-side, and bid God give them joy, and told them all things went well, and that ere night he would bring them ten pounds of her uncle's to begin the world with. They both thanked him, which was all the requital that he looked for, and being therewith well contented he went his way laughing.

Home went he to the old man, who then was by, and marvelled how the work was done so soon. Robin, seeing that, said: "Sir, I pray marvel not, for a greater wonder than that this night hath happened to me." "Good niece, what is that?" said the old man. "This, Sir; but I shame to speak it, yet I will: weary with work, I slept, and did dream that I consented to that which you have so often desired of me (you know what it is I mean), and methought you gave me as a reward ten pounds, with your consent to marry that young man that I have loved so long." "Didst thou dream so? thy dream I will make good, for under my handwriting I give my free consent to marry him, or whom thou dost please to marry (and withal writ); and for the ten pounds, go but into the out-barn, and I will bring it thee presently. How sayest thou," said the old lecher; "wilt thou?" Robin with silence did seem to grant, and went toward the barn. The old man made haste, told out his money, and followed.

Being come thither, he hurled the money on the ground, saying, "This is the most pleasing bargain that ever I made;" and going to embrace Robin, Robin took him up in his arms and carried him forth; first drew him through a pond to cool his hot blood, then did he carry him where the young married couple were, and said, "Here is your uncle's consent under his hand; then, here is the ten pounds he gave you, and there is your uncle: let him deny it if he can."

The old man, for fear of worse usage, said all was true. "Then am I as good as my word," said Robin, and so went, away laughing. The old man knew himself duly punished, and turned his hatred into love, and thought afterward as well of them as if she had been his own. The second part shall show many incredible things done by Robin Good-fellow (or otherwise called Hob-goblin) and his companions, by turning himself into divers sundry shapes.

THE SECOND PART OF ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW, COMMONLY CALLED HOB-GOBLIN

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW HELPED A MAID TO WORK

Robin Good-fellow oftentimes would in the night visit farmers' houses, and help the maids to break hemp, to bolt^[5], to dress flax, and to spin and do other work, for he was excellent in everything. One night he came to a farmer's house, where there was a good handsome maid: this maid having much work to do, Robin one night did help her, and in six hours did bolt more than she could have done in twelve hours. The maid wondered the next day how her work came, and to know the doer, she watched the next night that did follow. About twelve of the clock in came Robin, and fell to breaking of hemp, and for to delight himself he sung this mad song.

The maid, seeing him bare in clothes, pitied him, and against the next night provided him a waistcoat. Robin, coming the next night to work, as he did before, espied the waistcoat, whereat he started and said—

So went he away laughing, ho, ho, hoh! The maid was much grieved and discontented at his anger: for ever after she was fain to do her work herself without the help of Robin Good-fellow.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW LED A COMPANY OF FELLOWS OUT OF THEIR WAY

A company of young men having been making merry with their sweethearts, were at their coming home to come over a heath. Robin Good-fellow, knowing of it, met them, and to make some pastime, he led them up and down the heath a whole night, so that they could not get out of it; for he went before them in the shape of a walking fire, which they all saw and followed till the day did appear: then Robin left them, and at his departure spake these words—

The fellows were glad that he was gone, for they were all in a great fear that he would have done them some mischief.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW SERVED A LECHEROUS GALLANT

Robin always did help those that suffered wrong, and never would hurt any but those that did wrong to others. It was his chance one day to go through a field where he heard one call for help: he, going near where he heard the cry, saw a lusty gallant that would have forced a young maiden to his lust; but the maiden in no wise would yield, which made her cry for help. Robin Good-fellow, seeing of this, turned himself into the shape of a hare, and so ran between the lustful gallant's legs. This gallant, thinking to have taken him, he presently turned himself into a horse, and so perforce carried away this gallant on his back. The gentleman cried out for help, for he thought that the devil had been come to fetch him for his wickedness; but his crying was in vain, for Robin did carry him into a thick hedge, and there left him so pricked and scratched, that he more desired a plaister for his pain than a wench for his pleasure. Thus the poor maid was freed from this ruffian, and Robin Good-fellow, to see this gallant so tame, went away laughing, ho, ho, hoh!

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW TURNED A MISERABLE USURER TO A GOOD HOUSE-KEEPER

In this country of ours there was a rich man dwelled, who to get wealth together was so sparing that he could not find in his heart to give his belly food enough. In the winter he never would make so much fire as would roast a black-pudding, for he found it more profitable to sit by other men's. His apparel was of the fashion that none did wear; for it was such as did hang at a broker's stall, till it was as weather-beaten as an old sign. This man for his covetousness was so hated of all his neighbours, that there was not one that gave him a good word. Robin Good-fellow grieved to see a man of such wealth do so little good, and therefore practised to better him in this manner.

One night the usurer being in bed, Robin in the shape of a night-raven^[7] came to the window, and there did beat with his wings, and croaked in such manner that this old usurer thought he should have presently died for fear. This was but a preparation to what he did intend; for presently after he appeared before him at his bed's feet, in the shape of a ghost, with a torch in his hand. At the sight of this the old usurer would have risen out of his bed, and have leaped out of the window, but he was stayed by Robin Good-fellow, who spake to him thus—

Having said thus he vanished away and left this usurer in great terror of mind; and for fear of being frighted again with this ghost, he turned very liberal, and lived amongst his neighbours as an honest man should do.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW LOVED A WEAVER'S WIFE, AND HOW THE WEAVER WOULD HAVE DROWNED HIM

One day Robin Good-fellow, walking through the street, found at the door sitting a pretty woman: this woman was wife to the weaver, and was a-winding of quills^[9] for her husband. Robin liked her so well, that for her sake he became servant to her husband, and did daily work at the loom; but all the kindness that he showed was but lost, for his mistress would show him no favour, which made him many times to exclaim against the whole sex in satirical songs; and one day being at work he sung this, to the tune of Rejoice Bag-pipes—

Moved with this song and other complaints of his, she at last did fancy him, so that the weaver did not like that Robin should be so saucy with his wife, and therefore gave him warning to be gone, for he would keep him no longer. This grieved this loving couple to part one from the other, which made them to make use of the time that they had. The weaver one day coming in, found them a-kissing: at this he said [nothing] but vowed in himself to be revenged of his man that night following. Night being come, the weaver went to Robin's bed, and took him out of it (as he then thought) and ran apace to the river side to hurl Robin in; but the weaver was deceived, for Robin, instead of himself, had laid in his bed a sack full of yarn: it was that that the weaver carried to drown. The weaver standing by the river side said:—Now will I cool your hot blood, Master Robert, and if you cannot swim the better you shall sink and drown, With that he hurled the sack in, thinking that it had been Robin Good-fellow. Robin, standing behind him, said—

With that Robin pushed him in, and went laughing away, ho, ho, hoh!

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW WENT IN THE SHAPE OF A FIDDLER TO A WEDDING, AND OF THE SPORT THAT HE HAD THERE

On a time there was a great wedding, to which there went many young lusty lads and pretty lasses. Robin Good-fellow longing not to be out of action, shaped himself like unto a fiddler, and with his crowd under his arm went amongst them, and was a very welcome man. There played he whilst they danced, and took as much delight in seeing them, as they did in hearing him. At dinner he was desired to sing a song, which he did to the tune of Watton Town's End^[10].

THE SONG

They all liked his song very well, and said that the young man had but ill-luck. Thus continued he playing and singing songs till candle-light: then he began to play his merry tricks in this manner. First he put out the candles, and then, being dark, he struck the men good boxes on the ears: they, thinking it had been those that did sit next them, fell a-fighting one with the other; so that there was not one of them but had either a broken head or a bloody nose. At this Robin laughed heartily. The women did not escape him, for the handsomest he kissed; the other he pinched, and made them scratch one the other, as if they had been cats. Candles being lighted again, they all were friends, and fell again to dancing, and after to supper.

Supper being ended, a great posset was brought forth: at this Robin Good-fellow's teeth did water, for it looked so lovely that he could not keep from it. To attain to his wish, he did turn himself into a bear: both men and women (seeing a bear amongst them) ran away, and left the whole posset to Robin Good-fellow. He quickly made an end of it, and went away without his money; for the sport he had was better to him than any money whatsoever. The fear that the guests were in did cause such a smell, that the bridegroom did call for perfumes; and instead of a posset, he was fain to make use of cold beer.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW SERVED A TAPSTER FOR NICKING HIS POTS

There was a tapster, that with his pots' smallness, and with frothing of his drink, had got a good sum of money together. This nicking of the pots he would never leave, yet divers times he had been under the hand of authority, but what money soever he had [to pay] for his abuses, he would be sure (as they all do) to get it out of the poor man's pot again. Robin Good-fellow, hating such knavery, put a trick upon him in this manner.

Robin shaped himself like to the tapster's brewer, and came and demanded twenty pounds which was due to him from the tapster. The tapster, thinking it had been his brewer, paid him the money, which money Robin gave to the poor of that parish before the tapster's face. The tapster praised his charity very much, and said that God would bless him the better for such good deeds: so after they had drank one with the other, they parted.

Some four days after the brewer himself came for his money: the tapster told him that it was paid, and that he had a quittance from him to show. Hereat the brewer did wonder, and desired to see the quittance. The tapster fetched him a writing, which Robin Good-fellow had given him instead of a quittance, wherein was written as followeth, which the brewer read to him—

I, Robin Good-fellow, true man and honest man, do acknowledge to have received of Nick and Froth, the cheating tapster, the sum of twenty pounds, which money I have bestowed (to the tapster's content) among the poor of the parish, out of whose pockets this aforesaid tapster had picked the aforesaid sum, not after the manner of foisting, but after his excellent skill of bombasting^[11], or a pint for a penny.

If now thou wilt go hang thyself,

Then take thy apron strings;

It doth me good when such foul birds

Upon the gallows sings.

Per me ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW.

At this the tapster swore Walsingham; but for all his swearing, the brewer made him pay him his twenty pounds.

HOW KING OBREON^[12] CALLED ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW TO DANCE

King Obreon, seeing Robin Good-fellow do so many honest and merry tricks, called him one night out of his bed with these words, saying—

Robin, hearing this, rose and went to him. There were with King Obreon a many fairies, all attired in green silk; all these, with King Obreon, did welcome Robin Good-fellow into their company. Obreon took Robin by the hand and led him a dance: their musician was little Tom Thumb; for he had an excellent bag-pipe made of a wren's quill, and the skin of a Greenland louse: this pipe was so shrill, and so sweet, that a Scottish pipe compared to it, it would no more come near it, than a Jew's-trump doth to an Irish harp. After they had danced, King Obreon spake to his son, Robin Good-fellow, in this manner—

So marched they in good manner (with their piper before) to the Fairy Land: there did King Obreon show Robin Good-fellow many secrets, which he never did open to the world.

HOW ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW WAS WONT TO WALK IN THE NIGHT

Robin Good-fellow would many times walk in the night with a broom on his shoulder, and cry "chimney sweep," but when any one did call him, then would he run away laughing ho, ho, hoh! Sometimes he would counterfeit a beggar, begging very pitifully, but when they came to give him an alms, he would run away, laughing as his manner was. Sometimes would he knock at men's doors, and when the servants came, he would blow out the candle, if they were men; but if they were women, he would not only put out their light, but kiss them full sweetly, and then go away as his fashion was, ho, ho, hoh! Oftentimes would he sing at a door like a singing man, and when they did come to give him his reward, he would turn his back and laugh. In these humours of his he had many pretty songs, which I will sing as perfect as I can. For his chimney-sweeper's humours he had these songs: the first is to the tune of I have been a fiddler these fifteen years.

Then would he change his note and sing this following, to the tune of What care I how fair she be?^[13]

A song to the tune of The Spanish Pavin^[14].

Another to the tune of The Coranto.

Thus would he sing about cities and towns, and when any one called him, he would change his shape, and go laughing ho, ho, hoh! For his humours of begging he used this song, to the tune of The Jovial Tinker^[15].

When any came to relieve him, then would he change himself into some other shape, and run laughing, ho, ho, hoh! Then would he shape himself like to a singing man; and at men's windows and doors sing civil and virtuous songs, one of which I will sing to the tune of Broom^[17].

When they opened the window or door, then would he run away laughing ho, ho, hoh! Sometimes would he go like a bellman in the night, and with many pretty verses delight the ears of those that waked at his bell ringing: his verses were these—